FYN WOKE WITH a shiver. He was covered in dew. From the distant wyvern cries, he guessed they were on same island as the eyrie. The sky had an odd grey tone, as if it was dawn, but heavy cloud prevented the sun from piercing the gloom. Isolt slept naked in his arms. She shivered in her sleep.
He rubbed her back, running his hand along the sweet curve of her hip and thigh, and suddenly he wasn’t cold any more. She stirred, opening her eyes. He saw memory return to her and her cheeks coloured.
Fyn kissed both pink cheeks. Their eyes met and he felt the heat of desire flare between them. Pulling her close, he marvelled that he could do this.
Her stomach rumbled and he recalled that she hadn’t eaten since the day before yesterday. ‘You must be starving.’
He found his shirt and draped it around her shoulders. They had spent the night in a hollow, in a field of tussocky grass. A seagull called and he followed it up the rise to find the land fell away to a small rocky beach. He stepped behind a bush to relieve himself.
A moment later Camoric’s yacht come around the headland. Fyn waved. He saw the captain lower his farseer and laugh. Reminded that he was naked, Fyn hurried down the slope into the hollow, where he gathered his clothes. The sight of Isolt standing there in nothing but his shirt, her hair all atumble, robbed him of thought.
She laughed and held out her hand. ‘My nightrobe?’
He passed it to her. ‘Camoric is here.’ As he spoke, he pulled on his breeches, had to tuck himself to one side to get the laces done up. He looked up and caught her watching, fascinated.
They both smiled and he felt the powerful pull of desire. He caught himself wishing Camoric had not found them.
Then Isolt’s stomach rumbled again. He buckled his knife belt and tugged on his boots. When he looked up, Isolt was dressed in her thin nightgown. She offered him his shirt.
‘You wear it.’ He lifted her hair and draped his shirt around her shoulders. Then he just had to kiss the back of her neck. She relaxed against him and his arms slid around her. ‘I never want to let you go.’
She went very still. ‘Then don’t.’
His arms tightened. Voices reached them from the beach and he stepped back. ‘Ready?’
She nodded. Taking her hand, he knew what he was about to do would change everything, but he didn’t see how it could be any other way.
They reached the crest, to find a rowboat on the beach.
‘Over here,’ Camoric called.
Fyn helped Isolt down to the beach, then jumped onto the sand beside her.
The captain joined them. ‘I thought the plan was to come back to the yacht.’
‘The plans have changed,’ Fyn said, meeting Isolt’s eyes; hers brimmed with laughter. There was no going back. ‘As ship’s captain you can marry us.’
‘I can, but... are you sure?’
Fyn reached out to Isolt.
She took his hand. ‘I was never more sure of anything in my life.’
Camoric laughed, then rubbed his scarred jaw. ‘What of Byren?’
‘Merofynia cannot have an absentee king,’ Isolt said. ‘I’ve made my choice.’
‘Besides, how many kingdoms does one man need?’ Fyn asked, then changed the subject. ‘How did you find us?’
‘I thought Loyalty and her mate might have come to the wyvern eyrie, and here you are!’ Camoric said. ‘But we haven’t seen Loyalty.’
‘I hope she’s all right,’ Fyn said. ‘We...’
Isolt’s lips parted in a secretive half smile. ‘Loyalty’s fine.’
Of course... They shared the bond and both had taken a mate last night. The ramifications should have shocked him, but Fyn found he didn’t care. He found Isolt endlessly fascinating.
‘You were going to say?’ Camoric prodded, with a grin.
‘We should get back to the palace.’ Fyn had to let the mage know there was no need for Siordun’s help. He offered to help Isolt into the rowboat. ‘My queen.’
She smiled. ‘My king.’
PIRO HID IN the conservatory, waiting for Varuska to come down to breakfast so she could ambush her. Somehow she had to make Varuska see they had to deal with Cobalt. Despite her urgency, Piro fought a yawn and failed. She’d had a nightmare about wyvern riders, and men torn apart and devoured... She shuddered.
Piro heard Siordun approaching and darted through the ferns and exotic blossoms, to return to the breakfast chamber. She was determined to tell him about Kaspian and confess her part in the bonding.
‘There you are, Piro.’ Siordun looked worried. Had Nefysto already told him? ‘Bad news. Isolt has been kidnapped.’
Piro gasped. It was the last thing she’d expected and she said the first thing that popped into her head. ‘Poor Fyn.’
Siordun did not ask what she meant.
‘Was it Neiron?’
‘We think so. I have to leave right now. You’ll have to go to Rolencia without me. I’ll meet you there are soon as I can. Is Varuska ready to play her part?’
‘She’s afraid of Cobalt. But she’ll come around.’
‘Good. Everything is in place. My Rolencian agent says the abbess is eager to help you bring down Cobalt.’
Piro nodded, wondering how she would get on with these two women, both formidable in their own way.
‘Piro?’
‘Yes?’
‘Have you had any visions? With Byren about to reclaim his throne, there has to be a nexus point coming up.’
She gasped, reminded of her nightmare. ‘I’ve done a terrible thing.’
‘Oh, Piro.’ He laughed, took her shoulders in his hands and kissed her forehead.
‘What was that for?’ she asked, stunned.
He shook his head. ‘You must be very careful. If you do have visions of the nexus point, let me know. I’ve told Soterro that he is to treat your words as my orders.’
She was honoured and a little overwhelmed. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘I know you will,’ Siordun said, then grew serious. ‘You’ll be fourteen on midsummer’s day, old enough to be betrothed.’
She pulled away. ‘I’m your apprentice, I don’t have to marry to further my family.’
Siordun opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of what he’d been going to say. ‘I should go.’
Piro watched him leave, wondering if he and Byren had cooked up some plan to marry her off. It infuriated her. She’d thought all that nonsense had been laid to rest.
‘Was that Agent Tyro’s voice I heard?’ Nefysto asked.
‘Yes. He’s returning to Merofynia. I’ll be leaving for Rolencia as soon as Varuska is ready.’
‘She’s not going,’ Nefysto said. ‘She’s already faced death because of the Rolencian royal family.’
‘If I could just talk to her—’
‘She doesn’t want to talk to you. She wants a quiet life.’
‘I promise she won’t have to speak to Cobalt. All she needs to do is stand next to me. We’ll be under the protection of the abbess.’
‘No, Piro. Haven’t you done enough damage?’
She flushed and tears stung her eyes. ‘I told you I was sorry.’
‘Kaspian did not come back last night.’
She felt terrible.
‘I’ll book passage for you.’
Piro flushed. Clearly Nefysto was keen to get rid of her.
The following day, before she sailed, Piro knocked on the door of Varuska’s chamber. ‘I must speak with you.’
‘I know what you’re going to say and I don’t care who rules Rolencia. I wish I’d never heard of our family connection!’
‘But we are family. We need you.’ There was silence, and Piro grew hopeful.
‘Anatoley was my family. My sister grew hungry for a crown and look what happened to her!’ Varuska bit back a sob.
‘I’m sorry about your sister.’
‘I’m sorry, too. The price you pay to play Duelling Kingdoms is too high.’
Piro leant her forehead on the
door. She’d lost her brother, mother and father. Tears stung her eyes. ‘You’re right. Stay here. I’ll let the mage know.’
Siordun and his Rolencian agent would have to tweak their plan. Piro set off for Mage Isle to send the pica birds. She took Old Gwalt’s chest, containing the documents establishing Siordun’s right to Dunistir Estate, and placed it in the library with all the other document cases. Then she went to the top of the tower, where she found Cragore tending to the pica birds. He eyed her resentfully.
‘Good, you’re here,’ Piro said. ‘I need you to send a message to both Rolencia and Merofynia.’
‘I can send it to the Wyvern’s Whelp, too,’ Cragore boasted.
‘Really?’ She’d known that, but she managed to look impressed.
He indicated a cage. ‘It takes a deeply bonded pica pair. Lady is so smart she can find her mate on a ship anywhere on the Stormy Sea.’
‘Lady?’
He flushed.
Piro stroked the bird. ‘She suits her name.’
Mollified, Cragore tended to the picas. While he taught the birds to memorise the message about Varuska, Piro headed down the steps.
A moment later, Cragore called after her. ‘There’s news from Merofynia. Fyn has married Queen Isolt.’
‘What?’
He nodded. Full of importance, he announced, ‘I must tell the mage.’ And he ran down the stairs.
She let him go, secure in the knowledge that Soterro would cover for Siordun. Meanwhile, she ran back up the steps.
Byren needed to know he was free to marry Florin. Piro made up a simple rhyme and sang this to Lady before releasing the pica bird. Now Byren would be happy, too.
Feeling pleased with herself, Piro boarded the ship bound for Rolencia.
BYREN PACED HIS ship’s deck. Dawn revealed Snow Bridge Bay, but no more ships had arrived overnight. For two days a fierce storm had raged. Even here in the protected waters behind the headlands, the ships had been tossed about like corks. Of the six vessels that had followed the Wyvern’s Whelp through Mulcibar’s Gate, only three had made it into the bay.
‘I don’t like the way that ship’s sitting.’ Orrade pointed to one of the merchant vessels. ‘She’s too low.’
‘She must be taking water,’ Bantam said. ‘We’ll make a sailor of you yet.’
Byren shook his head. ‘Three ships missing. All those lives lost...’
‘There’s a chance one or two of them may limp into port somewhere along the spars,’ Bantam said.
Byren met his eyes.
‘But it’s more likely they were battered to pieces on the rocks,’ the captain admitted.
‘So our army consists of the men on these four ships,’ Orrade muttered. ‘That’s cutting it awfully fine.’
But Bantam was shaking his head. He gestured to the ship sitting low in the water. ‘If the captain’s lucky, he’ll make it back to Port Mero. But he’ll have to lighten his ship by unloading your men.’
‘Sylion’s Luck!’ Byren muttered. Was there ever a man more cursed with bad fortune? ‘They’ll have to travel over Cockatrice Spar. Tell Chandler I want him.’
Orrade nodded and left. Bantam called for his boatswain and they went off to check the ship for damage before taking her out onto the open sea.
A few moments later Orrade returned with Chandler. When Byren explained that he would be entrusted to take the men over the spar to Rolencia, Chandler was not happy.
‘I should be with you when you defeat Cobalt.’
‘If you move quickly and the Cockatrice Spar warlord lets you travel through his lands without trouble, you can be over the spar and down into the Rolencian valley in time for midsummer’s day. Now pack your things and go. I’m relying on you to get these men home safe.’
Chandler gave him a Rolencian salute and went below deck. A moment later Florin came out onto the middeck. Byren took in the way she moved. Everything was an effort. His poor mountain girl... she’d hate being so weak.
‘I’ll send Florin with Chandler, so she won’t have to endure sea-sickness all the way home,’ Byren said, and called her.
Orrade caught his arm. ‘I don’t like it. What if the new warlord of Cockatrice Spar gives Chandler trouble?’
‘I’m sending Chandler over the spar with a hundred and fifty men. She’ll be safe.’
‘Not if the warlord thinks Chandler is invading.’
‘Chandler will tell the warlord—’
‘What if he’s an arrogant prick who takes insult because you didn’t negotiate for your men to pass through his territory yourself?’
‘Since when did you get to be so cautious?’
‘Since I had a wife and child to consider. It’s safer to go by sea.’
‘What if there’s another storm?’
Orrade bit back his reply as Florin joined them on the reardeck.
She pointed. ‘Is that a pica bird?’
Byren and Orrade exchanged a look. The mage would only contact them if something had gone wrong. Byren’s stomach knotted. If anything had happened to Piro...
Orrade lifted his arm, and Byren sensed his Affinity rise. Attracted by the power, the bird went to Orrade. As he bent his head to listen to the message, Byren watched his face closely.
When Orrade’s gaze flew to Byren and his expression closed down, Byren expected the worst. ‘Out with it. Tell me.’
‘Fyn has married Queen Isolt.’
‘What? No.’ Byren took a step back, shaking his head. ‘There must be some mistake. Fyn would never betray me.’
‘I listened to the message twice.’
A rushing sound filled Byren’s ears. Fyn had betrayed him. He’d lost Merofynia. He’d lost his army and—he raised his head to meet Florin’s shocked eyes—he’d lost his mountain girl.
FOR ONE STUPID, exhilarating moment Florin thought Byren would say that this changed everything and they could be together, but she was forgetting that he didn’t want her. He only looked so shocked because Fyn had betrayed him. And besides, she’d put her name to the wedding contract before the whole ship. She could not dishonour Orrade.
Byren was ashen.
Orrade’s hand settled on Byren’s shoulder. ‘You’re free of a betrothal you never wanted.’
But Byren had less than half the men he’d set sail with, and he’d lost Merofynia. No wonder he shook his head as if he was having trouble thinking.
Shrugging off Orrade’s hand, he walked to the stern of the ship, where he gripped the rail. Florin could see the tension in his shoulders and neck.
Orrade joined Florin. ‘Go to him.’
‘And do what?’ All she could offer was comfort, and Byren needed an army. Only one person could give him an army. As much as she hated to say it... ‘The Snow Bridge king offered you an alliance.’
Byren exhaled and for an instant his shoulders seemed to sag, then he turned around, speaking decisively. ‘Orrie, I need you to go to King Jorgoskev.’
Orrade took a step back.
‘He claimed he could send a thousand men into battle at a day’s notice. Tell him I’ll marry his daughter, if he gives me six hundred men. You’ll need to force-march them down into the Rolencian valley in time to help me defeat Cobalt.’
Orrade lifted his hands. ‘But Byren—’
‘I must strike a decisive blow. If I don’t cut Cobalt down now, I might as well...’—he gestured to the ship—‘sign on as a sea-hound!’
‘What of Florin?’ Orrade asked.
Byren didn’t so much as look at her. ‘She goes with you to make sure they don’t cheat us.’
Orrade opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he nodded. ‘If that is what you want, but the thin air will make her sky-sick again.’
‘I go where Byren needs me,’ Florin stated.
‘It’s settled.’ Byren joined them. ‘I’ll give you half a dozen men and enough gold to hire mounts and move fast. Don’t fail me in this, Orrie. If you arrive too late, you’ll have to bury me.’
&
nbsp; Orrade stiffened. ‘You know only death would prevent me from meeting you.’
Florin asked the question no one had asked. ‘Which daughter?’
Byren shrugged. ‘The second eldest. She seemed happiest with the arrangement.’
Florin hated the girl with every fibre of her being.
‘I’ll draw up the papers.’ Orrade frowned. ‘What was her name?’
Byren shrugged. ‘Skev... Skev something.’
‘They were all Skev something,’ Orrade muttered. ‘I was too astounded seeing the poor girls naked to take in their names.’
‘Me too,’ Byren admitted.
‘The youngest was Skevlonsa.’ Florin remembered that much.
‘Skevlaxa?’ Byren muttered. ‘That was it. Tell him I’ll marry Skevlaxa in return for six hundred men. Let’s hope we all meet on the battlefield, with Cobalt’s body at my feet.’
FYN’S HEART ROSE as Isolt returned to their private chamber. Even if Byren never forgave him, he had no regrets. Not that he thought Byren would hold a grudge. ‘What did she say?’
‘Nerysa fears the nobles will reject her.’
‘You pointed out that Sefarra—’
‘She said Sefarra is an eccentric who doesn’t care what people think.’
Fyn grinned. With Neiron’s death, they needed a new lord of Nevantir Estate, and it had to be someone they trusted. ‘Will she leave the abbey?’
‘Honestly? I don’t know.’ Isolt came over to stand behind him. She slid her arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘We have until the nobles arrive for the midsummer festival to convince her. I hope Byren—’
‘Byren has his army. He has Orrade and the mountain girl, Piro and the abbess.’
‘You’re still angry with him.’
‘He insulted you.’
‘I don’t want to come between you and your brother.’
Fyn didn’t want to upset her. ‘While you were busy with Nerysa and the abbess, I was busy with the Merofynity Stone. I’ve had it cleaned of moss and dust, and on midsummer’s day, we’ll be crowned...’ He broke off as a servant arrived with a tray laden with wine and cheese.
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